


Rainwhisker's Release

by toboe_whisker



Series: Warrior Cats Requests [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, You can't change my mind, rainwhisker deserved better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toboe_whisker/pseuds/toboe_whisker
Summary: Rainwhisker's final moments, which were excluded from the book but are brought to light here through his point of view.
Series: Warrior Cats Requests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697959
Kudos: 2





	Rainwhisker's Release

Since late leaf-fall, brief dustings of snow and ice had been coming down from the mountains. Every cat believes that it was only the beginning of a great snowstorm to come. WindClan was taking it particularly hard whenever the powdery bumps turned into mountainous drifts, and Onestar was becoming as bitter as the breeze. This worried Firestar enough to double patrols on the WindClan border just as he had done for ShadowClan a couple of moons ago before their fight. ThunderClan’s warriors were exhausted from pushing and jumping through the snowdrifts, and their apprentices were left nervous after Firestar decreed that they only are allowed out of camp once every few sunrises to save energy. The threat of badgers, ShadowClan, and now WindClan was just too much for the senior leader to ignore.

Rainwhisker watched Brackenfur, Spiderleg, and Sandstorm return from patrol with contorted features. He was immensely frustrated despite his smarting leg.  _ Come on! Why do you have to act up now of all times? ThunderClan needs warriors right now more than ever!  _ He thought sourly, his blue eyes glowering at his shoulder.

“I know that look,” an amused purr hummed behind him, and the sound of her pawpads tapping on wet stone met his ears.

The ThunderClan medicine cat, Leafpool, sat down beside Rainwhisker, smiling wistfully. He could detect fatigue in her amber eyes, though. Leafpool was working just as hard as the warriors, if not more so, especially since her sister had just kitted during what could be the worst leafbare in the history of the Clans.

“Oh, do you now? What am I thinking then?” He murmured with a slightly distant voice, resuming his watch of the returning patrol.

“Why can’t I go on patrol with the other warriors instead of being stuck in this stuffy den,” she meowed, matter-of-fact if not a bit exaggerated.

Intrigued, Rainwhisker turned his attention back to the dark tabby bicolor, “Impressive. How’d you know?”

“Dustpelt yelled the same thing at me yesterday after I examined his back,” she chuckled. “That’s why I told him to go stay in the nursery if he wants to be a kit.”

Rainwhisker laughed with her, the statement sounding just like the old dark brown tabby. Dustpelt was getting surlier with age and the aches and pains he felt in his back and hips would only get worse over time, especially if he continued to aggravate them. Rainwhisker, on the other paw, was still rather young and should be able to fully recover minus the isolated ache from time to time during the cold weather moons.

“Did he listen?”

“He did actually. But not without having the last word. ‘I’m only going because Ferncloud’s there,’ he’d said.” She half-heartedly imitated Dustpelt’s much lower voice while shaking her head.

“I’m glad that he listened to some cat other than his mate for a change,” Rainwhisker joked openly, his mood a bit brighter now.

  
  


The next few days of rest passed slowly with too much loafing around for his taste. He wanted excitement but his leg was stiff enough to be called a log, and the snow wasn’t showing any signs of letting up soon. Rainwhisker had to find ways to entertain himself as he laid in his nest most of those sunrises (if one could even call them that with how short the sun’s time in the sky was).

At first most of his spare time was spent eavesdropping to learn gossip that was useful for nothing except internalization, which is never good for much. However, he quickly grew bored of this and turned his attention towards studying the behavior of his Clanmates. Rainwhisker didn’t learn much from most of the cats he’d seen, but in the time he had spent limping back and forth between the warriors’ den and the medicine den, he noticed something off about Leafpool that he couldn't quite place. The usually even-tempered molly was uncharacteristically grief-stricken and upon closer inspection, he noticed that her belly didn’t taper as dramatically as the rest of the hungry ThunderClan cats. His initial thoughts were that Firestar was keeping her fed to ensure that his daughter could handle the rise in sick and injured cats, but he also had what he hoped were less plausible suspicions.

Leafpool finally told Rainwhisker on the fourth day that if he promised to take it slow, then he could assist with duties inside ThunderClan’s walls. She was ultimately limiting him to things like changing bedding, patching up the bottoms of the dens where drafts got in and rationing their fresh-kill. These options were, of course, the jobs meant for apprentices and the occasional restless warrior (a category he, unfortunately, fell under).

The dark gray tom wanted to grumble and groan, but coming across as ungrateful wasn’t very warrior-like. Rainwhisker settled for a brief ‘thanks’ instead. He swept out of the medicine cat den’s natural warmth to begin his tasks after Leafpool had acknowledged his expression of gratitude. During his short walk, he hadn’t failed to notice how uneven his strides were, a direct result of his leg’s lack of use while it mended.

Luckily, Thornclaw wasn’t hard to find, his thick golden coat bold against the white background. The senior warrior had been placed in charge of repairs since Dustpelt was temporarily out of service. He didn’t hesitate to put Rainwhisker to work, happy to have the extra set of paws.

He was quickly paired up with Ashfur and directed to a snow-dusted pile of leaves and twigs. Rainwhisker gathered what he could in his jaws and made his way over to Ashfur to help the other warrior patch up the higher gaps in the apprentices’ den.

Ashfur was grateful for Rainwhisker’s assistance. The dark gray tom’s presence would halve the amount of time it would take to finish the den’s repairs now that Ashfur didn’t have to climb up or down every time he ran out of leaves or twigs. The two toms were mostly silent as they worked, but Rainwhisker didn’t want to work in complete quiet after being cooped up in the warriors’ den for the last few sunrises. He thought it best to strike up a conversation.

“Have you spoken with Dustpelt recently?” Rainwhisker asked absently around a few pieces of bark.

A hum was emitted from the pale gray cat’s throat, clearly holding something in his jaws as well. He didn’t speak until shortly after, “Dustpelt? Why?”

“Leafpool has him confined to his nest for the near future,” Rainwhisker replied, his tone carrying a small amount of worry. “You haven’t tried to keep him company or anything?”

Ashfur retorted with a growl like Rainwhisker had brought up an old quarrel, “Why should I? I’m not his keeper; that’s my sister’s job.”

“Alright, easy. I was just checking,” he soothed, confused at Ashfur’s short temper. “You and I both know how hard it can be to miss out on all of the excitement, and I figured that you would supply him with some encouraging words.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you figure?” He grumbled as he tightly packed leaves into the roof of the apprentices’ den.

Rainwhisker shook out his dark coat when Ashfur knocked a patch of snow down on him. He couldn’t tell if it was accidental or not. “You were his apprentice,” he supplied, his deep voice dropping down a few octaves.

“Yeah.  _ Were,”  _ he corrected, curt, “Now hand me that twig down there so we can finish.”

Disheartened at Ashfur’s lack of sympathy, Rainwhisker did as asked then changed the subject, still wanting to hold a conversation.

“I think the fur has finally grown back in around Firestar’s neck,” he started, turning his head to acknowledge the ginger tom that was currently watching them work from Highledge. “When Brambleclaw, Leafpool, and Squirrelflight brought him back to camp I thought he might lose another life.”

“It’s been like that.”

Rainwhisker ignored his shortness and carried on to another topic, “Have you seen Squirrelflight’s kits yet? Those three are going to be quite the troublemakers--I think. Lionkit was especially rowdy when I visited. It’s a shame Squirrelflight can’t nurse them herself, though, considering how fond she is of them.”

Unfortunately, this seemed to push Ashfur’s anger over the edge instead of quelling it, and he leaped off the roof of the den with a snarl in Rainwhisker’s direction and stormed out of camp.

The dark blue-eyed warrior attempted to call him back, dropping down onto all-fours with a wince, “Ashfur! Where are you going? We have repairs to finish!”

_ Why is he so moody all of the sudden?  _ Ashfur’s peculiar behavior had been quite troubling as of late, and Rainwhisker didn’t like the looks of his new attitude. He found it unsettling.

Whitepaw slipped out the shivering apprentices’ den as the ash-gray tom was leaving through the entrance tunnel. Her pale blue eyes were bleary with sleep, but she was clearly confused and turned to Rainwhisker for an explanation.

“He’s probably just tired,” the blue-eyed tom supplied with a shrug, hoping that his voice sounded more convincing aloud than it did in his head.  _ Tch, we’re all tired, you mouse-brain; that’s no excuse,  _ he thought, inwardly rolling his eyes.

She was ready to question him when Rainwhisker interrupted, distracted by the feeling of his fur burning, “Hold that thought.”

He quickly recognized the burning to belong to that sensation one gets when they’re being watched. Rainwhisker faced Highledge and saw the ThunderClan leader still perched there. Firestar was staring directly at him now, leaf-green eyes boring into him. Firestar used his tail to wave the dark gray warrior over and Rainwhisker felt his stomach drop. He hoped to StarClan that he was wasn’t in trouble.

Accepting his fate, the blue-eyed warrior nodded to Whitepaw as a short farewell then waded through the light snow to get to Highledge where Firestar met him at the base. The ruddy-ginger tom led him up into his den where they would be shielded from the steadily falling snow before addressing him.

Out of respect, Rainwhisker was the first to speak, his head bowed low, “Greetings, Firestar. Does something trouble you?”

“Relax, Rainwhisker. I only wish to discuss your injury,” Firestar began with a soft smile.

Rainwhisker felt his tensed muscles relax and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“But don’t think that I missed your exchange with Ashfur. I just don’t think that that’s a topic worth discussing when ThunderClan has more important problems.”

Rainwhisker nodded understandably, his ears flattened ever so slightly in a small show of guilt. “Yes, of course.”

Firestar seemed satisfied enough with his reply for now, and he promptly moved on. “Now, I want an honest answer. Do you believe that you can recover from this? I understand that dislocations usually take time to mend, but I don’t want you to think that you need to push yourself to stay a part of all the action.”

Taken off guard, Rainwhisker couldn’t think of how to respond at first.  _ Does Firestar think I should retire? I’m hardly half the age of a warrior worthy of being an elder! _

He had to force his fur to remain flat as he responded carefully, “I’ll be fine. It’s just a minor ache.”

Firestar wasn’t convinced in the least, and he continued with another question, “You aren’t doing this just to prove yourself to Sorreltail and Sootfur, are you?”

Rainwhisker was aware that he should feel offended that his leader would bring up his deceased brother, but he didn’t have the heart to be angry. He understood, so he smiled instead; a knowing yet pained kind of smile.

“No. My littermates would never want that for me, so I wouldn’t think of putting them through it,” he answered with undeniable honesty, his head held high as the two toms momentarily locked gazes.

“Very well, Rainwhisker. I trust that you know what you’re doing.” Firestar gave a nod, waving his tail to dismiss the other tom the heartbeat he stopped talking.

He rose from his proper sitting position to an even stand that Rainwhisker was forcing (praying to his ancestors that it wasn’t obvious). He circled around to leave and passed Cloudtail on the way out through the entrance. The broader warrior accidentally bumped his bad shoulder and the searing hot agony leaping through his healing tendons was too much for him not to scream.

OoO

Mere sunrises later, gray clouds heavy with snow had blown down from the mountains ready to add to what ThunderClan (and the other three Lake Clans) already had. In preparation for the onslaught, Firestar made a new decree in an attempt to keep his cats safe: No cat was to leave camp without two others. This was meant to ensure that if a cat fell into a snowdrift or snow fell on them, the one would dig them out and the other could run for help, albeit Rainwhisker wasn’t an active participant in this new rule.

He was more or less grounded by Firestar himself. This meant being stuck in the camp until the ThunderClan leader deemed him ready to return to patrols, which at this rate would probably be never. Brackenfur and Brambleclaw refused to negotiate an alternate option. Sorreltail was his only sympathetic company and she was usually too busy or too tired from taking care of her rapidly growing kits. He was losing energy and muscle strength.

Those clouds had been hanging over their heads for little over three sunrises, unmoving and nothing short of intimidating, when Firestar caved to Rainwhisker’s pleas, but not without a warning.

“You must promise me that you won’t try to be the hero. I don’t want to lose any of my cats,” the senior tom’s voice was grave. “There will be an extra warrior in every one of your patrols to serve as an escort for you if you must return early. Also, take Hazelpaw with you today; Dustpelt is still recovering and she’s already falling behind her brothers. Brambleclaw suggested the apprentices should experience different teaching methods occasionally anyway.”

“Hazelpaw? Isn’t she a bit young to risk this kind of weather?”

“She may be if she were on her own, but under the right supervision she’ll do just fine.”

Rainwhisker gave a nod of agreement.

“Be careful. I won’t lose any more warriors, understand?”

“Yes, Firestar,” Rainwhisker dipped his head as he rose to leave the ThunderClan leader’s den.

Firestar waved his long tail to dismiss him.

Rainwhisker shook his head at his leader’s actions the heartbeat he was out of Firestar’s sight. He should’ve guessed that that was the real reason behind why the ruddy-ginger tom was being so hard on him. Ever since the battle with the badgers and the fight with Hawkfrost, Firestar had been taking extra precautions to protect his Clan. Rainwhisker was still injured, so he had a higher chance of further harm compared to the healthier warriors.

He reached the apprentices’ den and peeked inside. Mousepaw, Hazelpaw, and Berrypaw were all sharing a nest that barely held the three littermates. Rainwhisker only sighed, amused at the uncomfortable display, and assumed that the litter just getting used to being out of the nursery. The dark gray tom didn’t bother mentioning that the litter would probably be more comfortable in their own nests as he gently roused Hazelpaw from her slumber. Once she was awake, the small, gray-and-white molly didn’t hesitate to make a show of how overjoyed she was at getting to venture out of camp even though it wasn’t with her mentor.

The pair hustled over to Sandstorm, Brightheart, Cloudtail, and Brackenfur were patiently waiting by the entrance tunnel, and the large patrol left promptly with Brightheart taking the lead.

Outside of the camp, they were left mostly unsheltered by the leafless trees and barren undergrowth. There wasn’t a single patch of frozen ground untouched by the snow unless you looked behind Cloudtail— the poor tom was covered in snow and ice. Brightheart led them to the ShadowClan border where they fanned out in pairs to replace the stale scent-markers. Rainwhisker took Hazelpaw down along the ice-covered creek until they were a good many fox-lengths from the spot Brightheart said they would regroup at.

The pale molly was right behind his paws as they walked, her much littler paws slipping into his deep prints like she was going down steps too steep for her short legs. Rainwhisker didn’t mind until he came to a halt right beside the creek and she bumped into his hindlegs. The tiny collision is enough to send her tumbling backward. He manages to turn around in time to see her roll right into a hollow oak tree. A loud echo can be heard as the bump vibrated up the trunk and shook the branches.

Snow fell on them in huge clumps, and Rainwhisker bounded over to Hazelpaw to shield the apprentice with his larger frame, hoping to wait it out. Cold snow seeped into his dark fur and slid down his back and lean shoulders, cooling his skin. The branches whined and creaked above their heads, foretokening danger as they swayed into adjacent trees. Hazelpaw squeaked when Rainwhisker lost his balance after a particularly large chunk of snow collided with the center of his spine.

Frustrated, Rainwhisker struggled to regain his footing after the heavy blow. He gripped Hazelpaw’s scruff in want of retreat, but her extra weight was offsetting his balance. The blue-eyed warrior was forced to drop her, correct his posture, and pick her back up all within a few thundering heartbeats. He then wasted no time in making for the creek on the ShadowClan border where the tree line thinned. There he set Hazelpaw down near the water’s frozen edge and stood over her until the creaking had ceased.

An eerie silence fell over the forest as Rainwhisker scooped Hazelpaw up and lifted her small body over the side of the creek bed’s tall edges. He pulled himself up after her with a stifled wince, and they resumed checking the border, albeit rather speedily. Rainwhisker laid new scent markers mainly with his claws. Brightheart and Cloudtail were trotting towards them just as they’d finished checking the last marker.

The worried look in Brightheart’s green eye was enough to make any cat feel ashamed for having made her feel that way. Rainwhisker monotonously explained what had happened, and young Hazelpaw jumped to apologize.

“I’m so sorry! I should've been more careful!”

Brightheart smiled and shook her head, “There’s no need to apologize. That could’ve been any cat.”

Cloudtail nodded distractedly, his blue eyes focused on the sky. “The storm’s here,” he declared as bigger flakes of snow and ice started to slowly descend from the gray clouds.

Sandstorm and Brackenfur ran up behind the fluffy white tom and his mate with grim expressions, both saying that they needed to get back to camp before they were caught in a blizzard.

“We need to make arrangements for shelter and food,” Rainwhisker added.

OoO

The snowstorm cleared after two sunrises, and the aftermath wasn’t as bad as most had feared, albeit it wasn’t good either. In a rare show of leafbare’s might, lightning had struck with the intensity of a newleaf thunderstorm, and everything was left packed under snow and sealed with ice. No cat could get anywhere without falling on their rump in the process. Most kept their claws unsheathed wherever ever they traveled to gain better traction, especially when they were patrolling in the direction of the lake, which is only downhill.

Rainwhisker was leading his patrol in that direction presently. His dark blue eyes surveyed the beauty and destruction of the storm with mixed feelings. The heavy covering of snow paired with the refracted light filtering through the icicles was astounding, but the charred smell in the air from lightning strikes was unnerving. He hoped that there weren’t any trees that were too badly damaged.

Brambleclaw must have been thinking the same thing, because he soon voiced his concerns, “Keep an eye out for any split branches. Some look about ready to fall.”

Berrypaw, Brambleclaw’s apprentice and Hazelpaw’s brother, piped up from his position behind his mentor, “What happens if the branch falls?”

“Then we get out of the way. These trees are very large and most of their branches are thick enough to crush a cat. If you see a branch run and alert your patrol,” Rainwhisker explained seriously as he hopped down onto the lakeshore with Spiderleg and his apprentice, Mousepaw, following carefully through the snow.

Berrypaw still didn’t seem convinced and was about to meow again when a loud crack echoed through the forest, cutting him off. Brambleclaw didn’t hesitate to grab the cream-colored tom by his scruff and leap out of the forest and onto the shore. The broad-shouldered dark tabby clumsily slammed into Rainwhisker, not having had time to aim, and the younger warrior involuntarily let out a yowl as the tendons in his shoulder exploded with lightning-like agony.

Berrypaw and Mousepaw ran to hide behind Spiderleg when the large maple tree branch crashed to the ground heartbeats after the ThunderClan deputy’s hindpaws had left the same spot. Both young brothers looked terrified and Rainwhisker was glad that their sister, Hazelpaw, had not been there with them. He wasn’t in any shape to be carrying six-moon-old cats to safety. His shoulder would give out at the first step. Even Brambleclaw was panting from the effort of picking up Berrypaw so hastily and he could endure far more in terms of strength than Rainwhisker’s lean build ever would; kittens are a lot of weight to carry with any cat’s neck.

Rainwhisker was sitting in the belly-deep snow, hunched over and breathing heavily while his body recovered from the sudden shock of taking the brunt of Brambleclaw’s unexpected impact. Brightheart, who had been herb-hunting for Leafpool further down the lake, was now hovering around him dotingly like he’d lost his leg already despite his minimal efforts to wave her off with his tail.

“It’s nothing, Brightheart. I’m fine. Brambleclaw only startled me. The discomfort is subsiding now,” Rainwhisker reassured emptily, not believing his own lie one bit.

“Even so, the five of you should all head back to camp, and have Leafpool check everyone over to be sure,” the white-and-ginger she-cat fretted.

“We’ll go back when we’ve finished checking the WindClan border,” he compromised, pushing himself to his paws to continue.

Brightheart wasn't pleased, but she didn’t argue, returning to her herbs instead.

When the beautiful molly was out of earshot, Brambleclaw began, “I can help you back to camp. Don’t feel that you must prove anything to us. Everybody is different and our bodies heal at their own rates.”

Rainwhisker shook his head, “Again, it’s nothing. You placed me in charge of this patrol and I won’t leave until we’re done.”

Brambleclaw’s amber eyes were understanding, albeit a tad guilty, and he let the conversation drop without saying more.

OoO

The walk home would’ve been quiet had it not been for Berrypaw’s constant yammering. Brambleclaw sounded like he was getting four steps closer to the end of his patience with every question he answered. Normally, Rainwhisker would’ve tried to respond to some of the squeaky-voiced tom’s inquiries with his insight to save a fellow warrior some of the hustle, but his mind was cloudy. He was finding it very hard to stay focused through the constant bouts of discomfort starting at his paw, rippling up his leg, and fanning out into the back of his neck.

The blue-eyed warrior was pretty sure that they were near the training hollow, but he had yet to actually see it. He felt so dizzy and each step he took was agonizingly painful. Everything was spinning. Rainwhisker had yet to notice how much he was relying on Brambleclaw to support his weight, or that the large tabby was even there. Brambleclaw made countless attempts to speak with him, though the ThunderClan deputy was starting to believe his calls were being ignored.

Rainwhisker would never hear the second thundering crack of that morning as the branch of a beech tree gave out under the snow’s mass nor did he hear Brambleclaw scream as he rushed to get Berrypaw clear before coming back for him. He never made it. Spiderleg had been quicker to send Mousepaw skidding away from the tree across a patch of ice and even faster when he ran to stop Brambleclaw. Rainwhisker’s back was broken almost instantly under the branch’s might. All signs of suffering left his nerves at the same moment.

Brambleclaw had scrambled to get back to Rainwhisker immediately after everything settled, desperate. He managed to shove most of the shattered wood off the smaller warrior with the help of Spiderleg despite knowing his efforts were in vain. He refused to leave Rainwhisker trapped beneath the debris. It wouldn’t be fair to the respected warrior or his littermate, Sorreltail, to leave him to die in such a state. 

Although the brightness had yet to part from Rainwhisker’s gaze, those blue eyes of his were only reflecting starlight in the final heartbeats of his life. He wasn’t seeing his Clanmates when his breaths became shallow and slow, no, Rainwhisker was looking past them at something far more celestial. 

A starry figure was standing by Rainwhisker’s side, unseen by the rest of the patrol. Sent from StarClan, he too was a dark gray tom. His amber eyes were sympathetic and sad but not unwelcoming as he leaned down to touch noses with the dying body laying at his paws.

Rainwhisker strained to meet the figure, grinning crookedly when he joked darkly, “I didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon, Sootfur.”

“I’ve been awaiting your arrival,” Sootfur sheepishly admitted as Rainwhisker was released from his old body. “You’ve done well to have watched over our sister for as long as you have.”

“I’ve done a rather poor job of it to be leaving so soon,” Rainwhisker confessed, risking a sorrowful glance towards Brambleclaw.

Brambleclaw bent to touch his nose between the ears of Rainwhisker's old body, his amber eyes were glassy. Spiderleg did the same while their apprentices stood farther off, unsure of themselves.

“Brackenfur is a fine mate. He will do well in your place,” Sootfur assured as he led the upward climb towards the stars.

Rainwhisker paused to sigh, looking down over the ThunderClan camp. He spotted Sorreltail’s calico pelt sitting beside a golden-brown tabby with three tinier moving smudges he could just make out as Honeykit, Poppykit, and Cinderkit. He smiled. They would be just fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> Another request. This one was requested by Cold Rising on the offstage death of Rainwhisker. 
> 
> Please enjoy and review!~


End file.
